


Uncle Ben

by Emily_F6



Series: Irondad Bingo 2019 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Irondad Bingo 2019, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23165152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_F6/pseuds/Emily_F6
Summary: Peter spends a day with his uncle...but something is wrong.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Irondad Bingo 2019 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664827
Comments: 7
Kudos: 259





	Uncle Ben

Peter sat on his bed, backpack at his feet, frowning down at it for what felt like a long time. Longer than should have been necessary. But...it was...wrong. Just slightly wrong. He had no idea why. It was his backpack. It was blue. His stuff was inside. He reached down, pulling it open and looking through the stuff. There were his books. His folders. A few wadded up papers that could have been chemistry notes or an outline for a science fair project or a note he'd been passing back and forth to Ned.

It was his backpack.

"Hey, buddy." The words startled Peter a little, and he looked up in surprise, his heart leaping in his chest. He hadn't heard the person approaching.

"Ben!" He wasn't sure why the sight of his uncle made his stomach tighten...why it seemed so strange to be in his bedroom with his Uncle Ben. That should have been totally normal! He lived with his aunt and uncle...had since he was a little kid. Since his parents had died. They'd taken him in. And he lived with them.

Right?

"How was school?" The man asked, stepping into his messy bedroom. An Iron Man figurine lay on its side on his bookshelf, a couple of LEGO sculptures in the corner. A pile of clothes that may have been dirty or maybe clean was right in the middle of the floor. Reaching out, his uncle ruffled his hair, then rested his hand on the back of Peter's neck.

"It was...uh...fine." Why couldn't Peter remember school? He'd gone to school...right? Surely he had. He tried to think back….he'd probably hung out with Ned and maybe talked to MJ and...something else. There was something else he did...after school. Peter had been sitting on the bed...he figured he must have come home from school and just...sat down? Right? Yeah. As he thought about it, the memories came back. He'd gone to school, aced a quiz, caught his bus, then come home. Just like always.

Everything was fine.

"I'm glad to hear that, buddy." His uncle squeezed his shoulder, eyes soft. "How about we grab some ice cream? To celebrate?"

"Celebrate?" Peter asked, standing and moving closer to his uncle, fighting the urge to throw his arms around the man. He'd missed him so much!

Missed him? Why?

He brushed that thought away, following his uncle through the familiar apartment. On the wall were old photos of himself as a kid, one of his parents...his aunt and uncle's wedding photo...it felt like he hadn't really looked at that picture in a long time. "Yeah, Pete! Celebrate!" Ben chuckled, grinning down at him. "Your report card!" Peter glanced over at the refrigerator and realized he must have put it up. That's right! He'd hung his report card on the refrigerator after school. Of course. Why had he forgotten that? "Straight As again. Keep this up and you'll be going to MIT before you know it!"

MIT...did Uncle Ben want him to go to MIT?

Of course, he did. Yeah. He'd talked about it...right? Said something about...it not being too early to look at colleges?

No...that hadn't been his uncle…

But who else would it have been?

"Where's May?" He wondered, looking around the apartment kitchen as his uncle grabbed his keys.

"Still working. Double shift at the hospital." Right. He'd known that. She'd mentioned it that morning. Probably. Peter followed his uncle out of the apartment, making sure to lock the door behind him, and the two of them headed to the elevator, riding down, and then hurrying to Ben's car which was parked on the street.

And then they were in the ice cream parlor. The one they'd gone to together a hundred times. The two of them were at their usual table, Peter's uncle digging into his chocolate ice cream. Chocolate ice cream...had his uncle always liked chocolate? Yeah. Of course.

Who else would have eaten ice cream with him?

To be honest, Peter didn't want ice cream. He wasn't hungry...his stomach was kind of sick, actually. It kind of...hurt. He put a hand to his mouth, grimacing at the feeling of nausea. "Come on, buddy...come on." He frowned...and then there was a hand on his shoulder. "Buddy?"

"Huh?" he asked, looking up into his uncle's concerned gaze.

"You okay, Pete? You look kind of sick."

"No, uh...I'm fine. Just...uh...felt weird for a second." Peter grabbed the spoon then, taking a bite of peanut butter ice cream without really tasting it. Still, he took a bite, then another. "Um...how was work?" He wondered.

"Good. It was good, Pete. You know, your aunt and I were talking. Why don't we go on a vacation this summer? Probably just for a week. I thought we could go to the beach. Somewhere warm and sunny. What do you think?"

"It sounds great!" Peter grinned, excitement colored by...something else. Something strange. LIke he was forgetting something. Was there a reason he couldn't leave New York for a week? Something...something was nagging at the back of his mind…

And this conversation...they'd had it before. Right? They'd talked about going on a vacation...but...they hadn't. No...they hadn't gone on vacation that summer because….because…

Why? Why hadn't they gone on vacation?

"Did you two eat ice cream before dinner?" The playful question jolted Peter back to the present and he blinked, staring down at his plate of meatloaf.

May? Peter blinked, looking from the table to his aunt and guilty looking uncle who winked at him as he took a drink of his smoothie.

Smoothie? Did his uncle drink smoothies?

Yeah….he must. Right? He was drinking one now. He remembered his uncle drinking water and sometimes a beer. Soda. Champagne with Aunt May on their anniversary and on New Year's.

Also...hadn't May been working a double shift?

"No. Of course not. Why would you even ask?" His uncle asked, and he felt his lips turn up at the corners, suppressing a giggle.

May turned her gaze to him and he swallowed the laugh. "Nope. I'm starving." He lied, shoveling food into his mouth without tasting it.

But then it hurt. It hurt like nothing else ever had and he gasped, grabbing at his stomach and dropping out of his chair with a strangled whimper. "Ben…" He gasped, coughing and tasting blood. What the hell? His uncle was suddenly on his knees in front of him, holding him upright against his chest.

"It's okay, Pete. It's okay. I'm here...we're gonna fix this."

"What...what's going on?" He sobbed, coughing again and watching blood soak his uncle's shirt. "Ben?" The arms around him tightened, and something poked him in the arm.

"Don't worry Pete. It's okay. You're okay. You're…" His uncle's voice caught on what sounded like a sob. "You're going to be fine."

"It hurts...Ben...please…" Peter cried, his whole body shaking as the pain spread. "Please!"

Ben was holding him so tightly...he was shaking. His uncle was shaking...not him.

And then he was sitting on his bed again, his uncle beside him. "Ben?" He asked, confused. Hadn't be been...on the floor? Something was wrong...something...big. He needed to call for help. He needed to call…

Tony Stark. He knew Tony Stark. Mr. Stark could fix this!

"Ben, I think I need to call Mr. Stark." His uncle looked down at him, eyes narrowing in confusion.

"What, Peter?" He asked, reaching out and taking Peter's hand.

"Yeah...he...I have an internship. With Mr. Stark!"

How could he have forgotten that? Mr. Stark was his...his boss? His friend? His...his father figure.

But why…

It felt like his whole chest was caving in, pain spreading through every part of him. Hands shaking, he stared up at his uncle and remembered. Remembered an alleyway in Queens...remembered kneeling at the man's side, hands covered in blood. Remembered holding him, sobbing into his shoulder as his body had turned cold. "Ben?" He asked, his voice a whimper.

"I'm here, Peter." The man murmured, placing a hand against his cheek. Peter shook his head.

"No...you're not! You're not here!" He sobbed, clutching his uncle's wrist. "You're gone. It's my fault...you're gone and…"

"Oh, buddy." He murmured, shifting so that he was facing Peter and capturing his face in his hands. "I'm with you. I'll always be with you." He'd rested his forehead against Peter's, wiping a tear away. "I would never leave you, Peter."

"But you did! You left me!" Ben took a deep breath, pulling away and looking so sad. So exhausted and sad, moving one hand from his cheek and placing it against his chest.

"I'm right here, Peter. Besides, you've got someone else looking out for you now." Peter frowned, shaking his head. "Iron Man, buddy. You always loved him, right? He was always your favorite. We had to drag you away from that computer when you were little...you were always trying to find videos of him saving the day."

"But I want you too!" Peter cried, tears overflowing.

"I know you do, baby. I know." His uncle pulled him close again. "And I want to be with you, Peter. I want...I want to be with you and May. More than anything. But I can't." He pulled away once more, hands on Peter's shoulders as he looked him in the eye, his own eyes red. "I love you so much, Peter. You know that, right?" Peter nodded.

"I love you too. I'm sorry I didn't tell you…"

"You don't have anything to apologize for, buddy. I'm so proud of you. More proud than I could ever say."

They weren't in Peter's room anymore. They were...on the roof. The roof of Peter's apartment building, the two of them sitting on a blanket, just like when Peter had been little. Ben had taken him out on nights when he'd had nightmares...nights when he couldn't sleep. And the two of them would stare at the stars, even though neither of them could name a single constellation. So one day, Ben had gotten an astronomy book from the library and they'd taken a flashlight and tried to find the stars in the smoggy city.

Now there were a lot of stars. Too many for them to be in Queens. But Peter didn't care. He wanted to stay. Forever. With his uncle. As if he'd read his mind, his uncle shook his head. "You have to go back soon, buddy."

"No...I want to stay with you. I...I can't lose you again."

"You're never going to lose me, Peter. I'll always love you. No matter where I am. And you'll always love me. Right?" Peter nodded. "Right. So you'll never lose me. Besides, you've got people waiting for you...so many people that love you. Just like I do." Peter started to shake his head...started to argue. But Ben rubbed a hand over his back. "It's almost time, Peter."

"I don't want to go." He sobbed.

"I know, buddy. But you have to. May's waiting for you. She needs you, Pete. And what about Mr. Stark? You can't leave him now."

"Mr. Stark...he doesn't…" Peter started, but the man shook his head, hand tangled in his curls.

"Tony Stark loves you like a son, buddy. He might not know it yet. But he does. He's so afraid right now...why don't you go back to him now? Let him know that you're okay. And tell him thank you for me...for looking after my boy."

He wanted to argue. Wanted to fight. But he knew that he couldn't win this. He barely understood what was going on, much less how to fight it. Instead, he wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around his uncle, stifling his sobs in the man's shirt. "I'm here, buddy. I'm right here."

His uncle's arms were around him, but someone was also holding his hand. And it hurt. No...not his hand. His stomach hurt. And his throat hurt. Like he'd been screaming for hours. "Ben?" He whimpered. He wasn't holding his uncle anymore. He was laying down, flat on his back with his head propped up on a pillow, and someone was holding his hand. "Ben?"

"Hey. Hi, buddy. It's me. It's Tony." The soft, familiar voice murmured. He blinked his eyes open, putting the hand that wasn't being held onto his stomach, flinching at the lingering pain.

"Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah. I'm here...I'm right here." The hand...Mr. Stark's hand squeezed his. "Are you with me, Pete?"

"Yeah." He rasped, flinching at his own voice. "Where…" He started, glancing around and fighting the urge to just go back to sleep.

"You're in the medbay. Do you remember what happened?" He shook his head, flinching as another wave of pain cashed over him. Looking past Mr. Stark, he saw Rhodey through a glass door, talking to someone else...Happy. He was talking to Happy. Rhodey and Happy were in the hallway of...wherever they were.

"No." He whispered. Mr. Stark rubbed his thumb over the back of Peter's knuckles, the motion calming him a little. Grounding him.

"We were at a science expo...we went for your internship. Well, officially. You went to get me coffee...you accidentally gave me yours and drank mine." Mr. Stark was staring down at the floor, thumb rubbing his knuckles over and over, hand squeezing gently.

"Am I...allergic to black coffee?" He asked, doing his best to lighten the mood. He'd had coffee before...he'd gotten really shaky and hadn't been able to sit still for longer than twelve seconds at a time, but he'd been fine. The man across from him barely managed smiled.

"It was poisoned." Peter swallowed hard, jaw tightening. "The barista knew that you were my intern...they were hired to kill me. But you got the drinks mixed up and...you hadn't slept the night before so you just downed the thing…" Mr. Stark took a deep breath, squeezing Peter's hand, his eyes filling. "You said your stomach was hurting and...you were seizing on the floor and...we almost didn't get you here in time. You were...the internal bleeding was so bad...and you were screaming and…"

Peter squeezed his hand, cutting off his words and pretending not to see the tear that Mr. Stark wiped away, face turned to the side. "I'm okay, Mr. Stark. I'm okay." He whispered. The man didn't look up at him for a long time, and Peter sniffed. "I...I dreamed I was with my uncle and...he said…" Peter closed his eyes, feeling tears fill them, and then Mr. Stark was standing, moving to sit on the bed beside him and carefully pulled him into his arms. Peter clung to him with weak arms. It was just like his uncle...but not. Not the same man. Not the same relationship. But the same love. "He said...that you loved me…" His voice broke, but he kept going. Kept forcing the words out, because he needed to say them and he had a feeling that Mr. Stark needed to hear them. "And he said...to tell you, thank you...for looking after me."

He pretended not to notice the man's shoulders shaking. Pretended not to notice how tightly he was being held, as if the man could protect him from something that had already happened. "I do love you, kiddo. Of course I love you." A hand pressed Peter's head to Tony's chest, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of the smell of Tony's cologne and the machine oil that he was always working with.

Mr. Stark wasn't Uncle Ben. He never would be. But he liked to think that that really had been his uncle...that his uncle really was happy that he had someone else in his life that loved him. Because of course he would be.

"I love you too."


End file.
